Alcohol and possibly exhaustion from exercise during drinking games contributed to the fatal accident. Member Brian Cook, 21, died in an auto accident following a rush event he himself had chaired. A fraternity brother was convicted of driving under the influence. Alcohol was a factor in the accident. A Brazos County grand jury brought no charges against members who soaked a pledge with water on a chilly January day.
Although Trey Walker was cleaning the house, members insisted no hazing had occurred. Alcohol was not cited as used at time of death, according to a family member. During Pledging Pledges Brian T. Sanders and Brian Pearce died during a pledge and member outing in which alcohol was served pledges. Alcohol likely contributed to the two deaths. Brian died heroically died trying to locate Pearce. The national fraternity closed the chapter. Steven Velazquez, 19, died when he and other members and new members dove into a lake for a traditional swim following the initiation of pledges.
Hazing was denied by participants. Unknown if alcohol was a factor in drowning. Benjamin Wynne, 20, died at the start of the LSU school year while celebrating his acceptance as a pledge. His alcohol level was nearly six times the legal limit. Alcohol was the cause of death. Binaya Oja, 17, died from alcohol intoxication on bid night. The two schools shared pledging at the time of death. Pledge Scott Krueger, 18, went into a coma and died at a pledge party. Charges were filed against the chapter instead of members, and the chapter merely dissolved with little or no consequence to individuals.
Alcohol contributed significantly to the death. He was removed from life support due to alcohol-related damage to his body. John Laduca, 18, a newly initiated member who had endured hazing but also had personal problems, killed himself in the house. Unknown to me if alcohol was present during the suicide itself.
I try to err on the side of caution. Courtney Cantor had a small amount of alcohol and possibly a date-rape drug in her system as she plunged from a dormitory to her death. In some ways, her death was a mystery in that her final movements were unknown. However, both national organizations strongly insist on alcohol-free pledging.
Dudley R. Moore IV died by hanging. Member Jack L. Ivey, Jr. Alcohol was cause of death. Pledge Kevin Lawless, 18, died during pledging from an alcohol overdose. Seven members were fined and given a one-year conditional discharge. Pledge Stephen Petz , 19, died during an initiation that was videotaped. Members were convicted for serving alcohol to a minor. Michigan later passed a state hazing law. A member found guilty of a felony had his conviction thrown out by a judge years after the trial. First-year student Donnie Lindsey Jr. No hazing charges were brought against event organizers.
No mention of alcohol was in press coverage. It is unlikely given the circumstances, however. Pledge sneaks—events in which pledges kidnap members—have widely been condemned by national organizations. The university condemned the activity but did not rule hazing had occurred. Over time the university student newspaper had to resort to freedom of information act requests to find out fraternity sanctions for hazing and other problems.
Pledge Adrian Heideman died after being encouraged to drink. Some members, including chapter officers, received a light jail sentence. Adrian and mom Edith. Accidental rush death. Seth Korona died from the effects of a head injury contracted after consuming beer during a keg stand. Alcohol was a contributing factor but other factors also were involved previous illness. A coroner wrote that Joseph T. Green died during an exercise session suggested by members. Physical hazing was a cause of death. This is the second death at this chapter.
Kappa Sigma Accidental drowning of pledge hazing was ruled out until a May statement by attorney reopened case. Alcohol and inaction of brothers present contributed to the death. Although Ken Christiansen had been drinking at an initiation party and veteran members scrawled pictures on their faces, he died of an accident when he fell dead drunk into a creek and died, according to a police investigation.
Alcohol consumed prior to going out in freezing temperatures and failure of other athletes to monitor were all factors in the death. Suicide after beating for revealing hazing tradition Member Ben Klein who was beaten after turning his chapter in for what he considered hazing and later was found dead in a creek near the fraternity house.
Members drank heavily on their porch rather than search for him with rescuers. Substance abuse was present night of death. Two males associated with the SDSU Tekes, on suspension for hazing, were killed when thrown from their truck as pledges were being taken somewhere from campus. The dead were identified as Brian Jimenez and Zachary Jacobs, both An angry mother demanded to know why pledges had been taken out when the chapter was under suspension. Exact circumstances unknown to me.
The Associated Press reports that the mother of a drowning victim and her friend may have been partaking in a sorority ritual. Those present denied hazing occurred. The family has announced a civil suit to come. No hazing charges have ever been levied, however. Pledge Albert A. Santos drowned in a University of Nevada campus lake.
He was a pledge of Pi Kappa Alpha. There were no arrests. A district attorney refused to call it hazing but instead a prank. Authorities and his family blame an alcohol drinking tradition associated with pledging for his death. No hazing charges were filed. Near Bridgeport, one of the DKE vehicles hit a semi that had broken down. Four young men were killed and five were injured. An alumnus of that fraternity chapter in angrily wrote me that a scavenger hunt should not be called hazing.
This seems to be a case of hidden harm. While the four deaths occurred after a scavenger hunt, the driver himself was not intoxicated. Alcohol was consumed by all or some of the deceased but alcohol was not the direct cause of their death. Hazing convictions Following the death of year-old Plattsburgh State University freshman Walter Dean Jennings, 11 fraternity brothers were convicted of crimes and served smaller sentences. Police stated that. Some members had been drinking heavily night of the death. Jennings died of a chemical unbalance due to coerced water drinking.
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Autopsy was inconclusive. Circumstances unknown to me. Pledge Kelly Nester of Coventry, R. A lawyer for the driver of the vehicle denies that any swerving or hazing occurred. A civil suit has been launched. Unknown to me if any pledges had been drinking. The driver was not cited for an alcohol violation, however. The direct cause was the accident itself. Robert Schmalz, 22, died following a rush event in which he consumed a lethal amount of alcohol. He was a member, not a pledge. Blake Hammontree was found dead in the house at a.
Family called the incident hazing, but coroner termed death accidental. Update: —Oklahoma Sigma Chi was no better after reinstatement. Although the university declared that hazing was not a factor in the accidental drowning, most schools in the years that follow post that giving alcohol to pledges is a hazing violation. The chapter was cited for eight alcohol violations and expelled the chapter. The victim was Brent E. The location was Cedar Lake. Source: Fraternal Law, SEptember Eight men were charged with crimes in the death of pledge Matthew Carrington, Convictions included one felony count for a sentence of one year in prison.
Members who demanded Matthew drink water to the point of death were heavily intoxicated. Pledge Kenny Luong of Cal Poly Pomona died in August after competing in a football game with other pledges against members of the Irvine chapter. There were many more members than pledges in the roughly played game. Toxicology rulingcame January Police said hazing may have been a factor in the death of pledge Tyler Cross who died in a fall while under the influence of alcohol.
The college was content to let this death slip under the radar screen with as little public scrutiny as possible. The alcohol-related death of Nikolas Gallegos, 18, at a fraternity party led to a letter to the student paper by a relative who pleaded that no fingers be pointed at anyone in the death. The result was 3 dead, one injured. Does not appear to be hazing.
Gary Devercelly Jr. Information was corrected and updated October 8, Julie and Gary Sr. She asked him about hazing. He told her not to worry — hazing is illegal in New Jersey,? Sadly Gary Jr. From the moment detectives walked into the fraternity house, they worked the homicide as a hazing case.
Two went to the hospital with alcohol poisoning, and one of them died. There were numerous, less dangerous forms of hazing that took place prior to this lethal night. It started with making and wearing tee shirts with demeaning words, to studying while standing for hours in the basement, to unity pushups and sit-ups in the woods in the dark, to a scavenger hunt stretching from New Jersey, to New York City, to Philadelphia way into the early hours.
Somehow Gary Jr. Numerous people knew Gary Jr. Unfortunately, no one listened until it was too late. Gary was placed on a futon and left alone. By the time paramedics were called it was too late. His parents had to make that decision no parent should ever have to make. With his mother, father, younger sister, and younger brother at his side, Gary Jr.
Brett Griffin, 18, of Kendall Park, N. J died in Newark, DE. Newark Police have charged University of Delaware students, all members or pledges of Sigma Alpha Mu, had already been charged as individuals by Newark police with alcohol and drug offenses stemming from the investigation of the death of Brett Griffin. However, police emphasized the individuals have no links to the death of Griffin. Griffin, died at a party in November. The attorney for the family of year-old Johnny D. Smith of Tucson, Arizona who died of alcohol poisoning took the unusual step of calling a press conference calling for investigation of possible hazing.
Police complained that university officials waited two days before asking them to investigate the death of Harrison Kowiak, 18, in what has been called a physical initiation game. The death has not officially been ruled hazing, but the father of Kowiak said the event certainly met the definition of hazing. The mother of Kowiak, Lianne Kowiak, became an anti-hazing advocate. Death caused by head injury. It is unknown if brothers had been drinking since they waited many hours before getting Harrison medical treatment.
Chi Omega and. Sigma Nu were suspended following the death. Members of Sigma Nu fraternity and Chi Omega sorority were charged with third-degree felony hazing. The death of pledge Carson Starkey, 18, on December 2, of alcohol poisoning resulted in convictions of members.
His parents are now activists. Arman Partamian, a recent Eagle Scout, died from an alcohol overdose. The parents of Donnie Wade Jr. Physical abuse and overexertion contributed to the death. Alcohol was not a factor. The death of Samuel Mason was called a hazing incident and subsequently resulted thus far in seven arrests in Punishments were unusually light.
Hank Nuwer wrote about the death for the Orlando Sentinel. Victoria Carter. A lawsuit by the mother of a deceased sorority pledge at East Carolina University maintained that the deaths of her daughter and a second pledge were directly caused by sleep deprivation due to hazing. Alcohol was not involved. S igma Alpha Epsilon. Band member Robert Champion died on a bus in an incident police have called hazing-related. One participant was sentenced to six years in prison. All others received probation. Physical violence caused the death. Alcohol not a factor.
Johnson was shot twice at his own home. Theta Chi pledge Philip Dhanens, a pound former football player, died following a weekend binge. He died at a hospital where he had been taken for assistance. Leonard Serrato, 30, served 90 days for supplying the alcohol, and for strongly encouraging Dhanens to consume copious amounts of rum.
Another member, Aaron Raymo, served a day sentence. Theta Chi president Daniel Baker also served a short jail term. Philip Dhanens. Diane Dhanens said. Members of KDR denied that recruiting had occurred, according to the Lafayette student newspaper. Earlier in , an additional Lafayette College student died after consuming a lethal amount of alcohol on his birthday—a non-hazing death.
Alcohol was direct cause. Twenty-two Pi Kappa Alpha members were convicted of various misdemeanor charges. The pledges were unable to walk on their own and were taken to the basement of the fraternity house and given buckets to vomit in; they vomited on themselves and each other. As they began to lose consciousness, their limp bodies were left in different places in the fraternity house such as the kitchen and hallway floors, according to the amended complaint.
A fraternity officer sent a mass text message to members ordering them to delete photographs and videos of pledges who were unconscious, the suit alleges. Bogenberger was found dead the morning of Nov. His blood alcohol content was 0. Reporter Barbara Vitello added the following in her story. Preston Vorhauer. A detective investigating the death of pledge Preston Vorhauer ruled that it was a non-hazing death when the pledge died swimming in a deep reservoir accompanied by fraternity members who failed to keep him afloat when the victim faltered.
The detective ignored my FOIA request. However, the national fraternity and school clearly have policies forbidding asking a pledge to attempt a risky stunt such as this one. In a lawsuit, the family of Marcus Thomas, 19, blamed his death in an auto accident on his lack of sleep due to Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia fraternity of America hazing. Photo and article link. The parents of Robert Eugene Tipton , Jr. Also involved in the suit is a university security officer.
The mother alleges a coverup and destruction of evidence. David Shannon. June 26, —I have gone back to look over the death of pledge David Shannon. Like the death of Tucker Hipps at Clemson University, David died in a fall under circumstances not percent clear. Here is what Sara wrote:. The death was originally investigated for ties to hazing, though no connection was ever found. On Oct. Although the fraternity accepted responsibility for hazing, an investigation by the UNC Greek Judicial Board found the chapter not responsible and imposed no hazing-related sanctions.
But the Board ultimately found the event in question was not conducted with malice toward the pledges and found the fraternity not to be in violation of hazing policy. Here is my reasoning. A hazing death does NOT need to have malice in order for it to be considered a hazing-related death.
In many cases, there is no malice. Marvell Edmonson. Holmes, 19, drowned after an initiation similar to the drowning that took two lives at Virginia State. The four defendants charged with hazing were part of the Men of Honor group, police said. They include James A. Mackey, 35 of Midlothian; freshman Cory D.
Baytop, 26 of Newport News; and freshman Eriq K. Benson, 19, of Quinton. Alcohol does not appear to be a factor. SFSU officials alleged that an April death from an alcohol overdose qualified as hazing. The dead youth was Peter Tran. He was blindfolded. His tormentors waited an hour before calling Alcohol was a factor but physical pummeling was direct cause. Media accounts quoting the father of a suicide as putting blame on hazing practices of Phi Sigma Kappa for causing his son Marquise Braham to leap to his death over Spring Break in March.
The family of Armando Villa and his university claim hazing led to the death of the CSUN pledge left barefooted in the rugged Angeles Mountains and forced to find his way home. My records show that Villa is the second pledge to die in the same mountains on a fraternity dropoff. Although an investigating sheriff at first ruled no hazing was involved in the death of pledge Tucker Hipps from a fall from a bridge, he was on an early-morning run with chapter members and pledges. The activity is generally outlawed as hazing by most national Greek groups.
He was the second Clemson pledge to die at Lake Hartwell. Trevor Duffy died from acute alcohol poisoning after being convinced to chug 60 ounces of vodka. Alcohol hazing. Nolan Burch died with a BAC of. See the stophazing. Dalton Debrick, 18 and an incoming freshman, died of alcohol poisoning while pledging the Alpha Sigma Phi colony. He was born in Nepal. Pi Kappa Alpha alcohol overdose at a party. The sudden death of Charlie Terreni, Jr. All national fraternities regard the giving of alcohol to underage pledges to be a form of hazing.
A previous death of a newcomer to a campus group at the University of Missouri, Rolla, was considered to be hazing-related. Terreni, Jr. As the death of Tim Piazza demonstrates, a chapter that allows a pledge to drink to the point of death must face consequences, no matter how unintended the fatality was. Michael Walker, 20, died in April from an a overdose in an incident that has resulted in providing alcohol to a minor and hazing charges.
Charged with various offenses are six individuals. Poor judgment led to the death of pledge Ryan Abele. The Sigma Nu national has been very instrumental in fighting hazing. Hoping for transparency in the circumstances of this pledge death of a very accomplished young man at a well-established Nevada-Reno fraternity now banned for 15 years by the college. Link to one of several reports calling this a hazing death.
Accidental death at out-of-control, alcohol-fueled off-campus outing where hazing occurred with pledges assigned as security. The death of a female attendee during an unsafe party thrown by multiple fraternity chapters Pi Kappa Alpha, Alpha Tau Omega, Delta Tau Delta, Kappa Alpha was a preventable tragedy that claimed the life of someone who was not being hazed herself. The hazing that occurred within chapters co-sponsoring the party, as reported in press reports, was marked by alcohol abuse which saw numerous people pass out willy nilly at the scene.
She was not found for 12 hours and then not by fraternity members, but rather by workmen sent there to fix the bus she lay under. Somehow she was struck by a bus and slipped under it only to be dragged feet without the driver or milling attendees noticing her plight. Significantly, a university investigation found that hazing of male pledges had occurred, and that numerous attendees had passed out at the site of the party.
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Emergency service personnel were called to the scene but did not treat Taylor. Minors were served. At least one chapter told members to lie and say the event was BYO. There is no indication Ms. Taylor herself had been hazed at the event. Local activists castigate the university for waiting until a civil suit occurred a year later before ULL officials admitted that the sleep deprivation qualified the death as hazing-related. Joe Dada died after drinking alcohol supplied by individual members and others not affiliated with the ATO chapter.
The case is similar to other instances where a national fraternity argues that it and a chapter should not be blamed for what individual members do. The eight men charged in PSU death of Tim Piazza received very little punishment, including house arrest in two cases. Jail time for two in Max Gruver Death: July Louisiana State University President F. King Alexander disclosed that police are investigating the sudden death of Maxwell Max Raymond Gruver, 18, as alcohol-related hazing that occurred at the Phi Delta Theta house, and that all Greek activities are suspended.
The national Phi Delta Theta organization has thrown its support behind police and school officials to investigate the hazing. The alcohol-related death of Andrew Coffey occurred at a fraternity with recent discipline issues for hazing. The nine below faced a judge Feb. The practice of gifting or exchanging bottles of booze that a pledge is expected to guzzle immediately has claimed the life of Matthew Matt Ellis, a pledge. He died Nov. One brother was charged with supplying the alcohol. Suicide allegedly a result of head injury caused by hazing A lawsuit by the mother of Alasdair Russell says that complications from a hazing head injury led to his suicide.
Fishwick, Jr. The settlement allows all of the parties to avoid the emotional, legal and financial burdens and risks associated with litigation and trial. See the story in The Atlantic magazine. Jose Luis Hernandez, one of three first-year students to collapse from renal failure following alleged extreme physical demands in a hazing, has died. The death is under investiation. Aguilera Teachers College Durango, Mexico Death of a student who collapsed during seven-day hazing during orientation Under investigation by police is the death of Ronaldo Mujica Morales who collapsed and died after allegedly being deprived of sleep and coerced or encouraged to drink alcohol.
We're free, white, and twenty-one. We'll go off on a little private honeymoon. Jim scarcely heard her. We'll keep on working at our desks here if you'd rather. I suppose my face is too well known to go to a hotel anywhere. But I tell you what we'll do. I've thought it all out. There's that big house of mine outside town, Fairfield, not a soul in it!
We'll go out there and picnic by our two selves. What fun It was the first time in his life that Jim Beardmore had ever been so addressed by an employee. He stared at her dumbfounded. As the man stared at her his face turned dark and ugly. I dare you to tell me the truth! She made no answer. She said nothing. What else can I do? A hateful look came over Jim's face. There was a knock at the door. Freda immediately sat down and spread her notebook on the flap of her employer's desk as if she were taking dictation. Jim glared at her with a speechless rage. Freda's strength lay in her capacity for keeping her mouth shut.
Jim was aware of all the things she had refrained from saying. The bruises on his face burned under the paint. It was a boy to say that Mr. William Dooley was calling. A look of craft came into Jim's face at the sound of that name. He lowered his eyes to hide it. Dooley was a little man of Irish extraction with a thin, cunning face. Like Jim Beardmore, the habit of command was in his eye, and like Jim he spent a lot of money on his attire, but their styles were different, Jim's conservative, and Bill Dooley's flashy. They lighted up, watching each other warily, each waiting for the other to make an opening.
Finally Jim said:. Bill smiled in a catlike fashion. Every year about this time I come to see you, and you contribute your check to the war chest. Bill still smiled. Beardmore, to have a ward of your own, so to speak. And always to be sure of having your own men on the City Council to speak up for you. Now, with my mills working full time in a world of unemployment, I'm a kind of savior of the town, a public benefactor. I could have anything I wanted from the City Council just by holding up my finger. You can't tell what's going to happen. You might have labor troubles.
Every business man has labor troubles sooner or later. Then you'd want a supply of non-union labor as well as armed guards to protect your property. He builds up his organization. Now, if I may say so, you already have your organization in the boys of my ward. Why break it up for the lack of a sum which means nothing to you? My boys would do anything for you, Mr. Why don't you use them more? Surely a man in your position must have many a little piece of business that would be better for being carried out quietly and all.
Just give it to my boys. Jim Beardmore's upper lip lifted from his teeth in an ugly fashion. He looked away from Bill Dooley. Bill laughed heartily. Just the same I'll lay you anything you like that if I was to mention around the ward that there was a certain guy Mr. Beardmore didn't like the color of his hair or anything, that guy would just naturally fade. And neither you nor me wouldn't need to know nothing about it. The boys are so damn grateful for all you've done. Jim laughed, too, but it had a strained sound.
He didn't look at Bill, because he knew his eyes were giving him away. There's a certain young fellow I have in mind. He doesn't mean anything to me in particular, but he'll do as an object. He'll never be missed. His name is Lance McCrea, and he lives at Mrs. Peake's lodging-house on Simpson Street. I don't know where he works. If he should accidentally get stepped on within the next few days, you can come around and the usual check will be waiting. Bill Dooley was not in the least taken in by Jim's parade of indifference. He observed the painted-out bruises on the millionaire's face and drew his own conclusions.
He was experienced in such matters. He smiled in his catlike fashion. You can consider the thing as good as done. Put it there! They shook hands. Jim avoided Bill's eye. He opened the door of his cellaret and got out a bottle of his old vatted Glenlivet. Dooley's eyes brightened and he rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand in anticipation. Even a ward leader could not come by such whisky. The two men parted in great amity.
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In addition to the ornamental grounds surrounding the mills, the Beardmores had purchased a large tract of land opposite and had presented it to the city to be used as a park for the benefit of their employees and the public generally. Naturally it had been given their name. Lance found a bench inside the park that was sufficiently screened from view, yet afforded a good point of reconnaissance.
The handsome little building housing the offices of the firm faced him, with the ornamental pool between it and the street. Tall cypresses rose at each end of the pool, with brilliant beds of late-blooming flowers in the fore-ground. Behind, partly screened by trees, were the wide-spreading buildings that housed the thousands of looms.
The whole plant was one of the show places of the state. Shortly before the whistle blew the same green limousine that had carried Jim Beardmore earlier in the day drew up before the offices. Lance smiled with grim satisfaction. His man was still at work. Lance engaged a passing taxi-cab and ordered the driver to wait a little way up the street. Sitting in the back seat, he watched the limousine through the front window.
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There was a deep furrow etched between his brows, and his eyes had the awful steadiness of the man who is possessed by a single idea. The street became crowded with the home-going employees of the mill, and emptied again before the limousine moved. When Jim Beardmore finally came out of the office building Lance's eyes fastened on him searchingly. Even at the distance it could be seen that Beardmore felt pretty good.
There was a spring in his walk, heavy as he was, and a complacent smile about the corners of his thick lips. The flower in his buttonhole, the slight swagger, suggested a rendezvous with a woman, and Lance's eyes grew hot as he took it in. The limousine headed downtown, with the taxicab fol-lowing. Beardmore stopped at Murdoch's, Lounsbery's fashionable leather store. The limousine moved on, and Lance, paying off his taxi, watched from across the street. He saw Beardmore appear within a window of the store and point to an expensive luncheon-basket that was dis-played there.
It seemed like an odd sort of purchase for him to make. Lance was still more surprised when he came out of the store carrying the basket, instead of having it sent home. Beardmore did not hail a car, but walked around a couple of corners and disappeared within a handsome building on Harrison Street. This building had a semi-public look, but it was neither a hotel nor an office building.
Lance put it to a postman who was passing on his last round. Lance concealed himself within the mouth of an alley opposite, and watched the club. A long time passed, but the fixed gray eyes showed neither weariness nor boredom. The street gradually emptied as people sought their dinners. The windows began to light up. It was almost dark when Beardmore came out of the club again.
He still carried the luncheon-basket. His festive air was slightly accentuated as if he had had a few drinks inside. He disregarded the taxi-drivers who eagerly bespoke his attention, and turned down to the Civic Center, where he boarded a trolley car marked "Morrell Park. Lance followed. The car was crowded, and the young man was safely hidden on the back platform. His intent gaze missed nothing. He saw, from the way that Beardmore carefully set the basket between his feet, that it was heavy.
Where was the rich man going in a plebeian trolley car with a basketful of lunch? As one person after another left the car, Lance realized that he must eventually be discovered. He dropped off at the next stop and waited for a taxi to come along. He instructed the driver to follow the car. More and more people got off, but Beardmore remained sitting stolidly in his corner.
City gave place to suburbs and suburbs to the open country. Beardmore was the last passenger left in the car. He rode to the terminus of the line. Lance stopped his taxi a couple of hundred yards short of the car, and paid the driver. Beardmore was walking on over the country road carrying the basket. It was quite dark now, but an occasional electric light enabled Lance to keep him in view. He was not the kind of man who looked over his shoulder. Too sure of himself. Lance followed, taking advantage of every bit of cover that offered alongside the road.
All this country was unfamiliar to Lance. As far as he could judge, it was pleasant rolling land. Many of the heights were crowned with fine country houses. They met nobody. Suddenly Beardmore disappeared. Lance, in his anxiety, ran ahead. At the point where he had last seen his man there was a gateway to one of the estates of the neighbor-hood. Lance listened with bent head, and presently distinguished Beardmore's heavy tread crunching the gravel. With a grim smile he followed him through the gate. Inside, the trees met overhead, and it was as dark as a windowless room.
Lance, walking on his toes, followed his man by the sound of his steps. It was quite a considerable park, with dense woods and open glades no doubt very beautiful by day. Finally a wide space opened up with the house in the middle. It was an immense, extravagant house with long rows of pillars and a balustraded roof, more fitting to serve as the palace of a duke than as the home of a plain American. Even by night the place had an indefinable air of neglect, as if it had been abandoned before it was finished.
No light showed anywhere in the endless ranks of windows. The solitude was complete. Beardmore left the road and struck straight across the grass like one well accustomed to the place. Lance, fearing to expose himself, hung back in the shadow of the trees. He was able to follow Beardmore's movements by the big white basket he was carrying.
He saw the basket mount the front steps of the house, hesitate for a moment, and disappear inside. Lance ran across the grass. No lights came on inside the house. In front of the house Lance showed his first moment of irresolution. He prowled up and down. He was not eager to enter that dark doorway.
Too much like a trap. Better wait outside until his enemy reappeared. Lance settled him-self in a corner of the terrace commanding the front door. But he could not remain still. Judging from the food he had brought, Beardmore expected to remain in the house all night or longer. And it was obvious that he was up to some devilment. Lance hovered uneasily around the door. The question was, how to get in? If he pounded or rang, it might bring his enemy to the door—or it might merely enable him to escape.
Above all Lance wanted to find out what he was up to. Lance tried the handle of the door, not expecting any result. To his astonishment, the door opened. He went in, closing it softly behind him. Inside all was dark and still. He could not hear Beardmore's heavy tread, nor any other sound.
His hand encountered a heavy oak chair, and he instinctively crouched be-hind it. It was possible that Beardmore was within a yard's distance, perhaps, watching him. Gradually his eyes became a little accustomed to the darkness. It appeared that there was a gigantic window in the back of the house, and enough light came through it to show Lance that he was in a sort of central hall that ran up to the roof and had several galleries running around it. A noble stairway went up at the back to a broad landing under the window, where it divided. One by one Lance spotted the possible hiding-places in the hall, and satisfied himself that Beardmore was not concealed in any of them.
There was not a sound through the house. The millionaire had disappeared like a stone dropped in water. Corridors opened right and left out of the hall, and Lance cautiously explored them. On the left-hand side he softly opened several doors, only to get a glimpse in each case of big formal rooms filled with shrouded furniture. On the other side of the house, the same. He started up the stairs a step at a time, gun in hand. Always peering and listening. He couldn't understand why Beardmore should keep himself so quiet. The house was his; or at any rate he possessed a key to it.
But the silence and darkness were those of the grave. On the next floor there were likewise long corridors on the right and the left. Lance went up the right-hand branch of the stairs. On this side nothing. He passed around the gallery, and as he looked into the corridor on the other side, he stiffened.
Under the first door on the left showed a crack of light. His first feeling was one of relief. Light suggested every-thing that was normal and living and human, and night-mare terrors evaporated. Jim Beardmore was behind that door. Lance smiled grimly and approached it. For a moment he paused outside, debating the best way to act. The most direct way was surely the best. He suddenly turned the handle with his left hand, and stepped over the threshold with his gun ready. A long room ending in a bay at the far end; a library lined with books. Brightly lighted.
It contained only a few comfortable pieces of furniture covered with dust-cloths. And Beardmore was there. He sat in a chair at the other end near the windows, his back turned to Lance. Not wanting to shoot him in the back. Lance spoke brusquely. The young man's eyes goggled with horror, his pistol hand shook like a leaf, a fine sweat broke out on his forehead. He had entered the house not more than three minutes after Beardmore, yet in so short a time the deed was done!
Quick work! The murderer could not be far away. Still in the room, perhaps. Lance's eyes darted, looking for possible hiding-places. The room had no other door but the one he had entered by. He closed it to guard against surprise from that side. In a moment he had got a grip on himself.
The murderer was not in the room. Lance approached the body. All his feeling of enmity left him. Beardmore's head had fallen a little forward and to one side, as if he had dropped into a doze. The hues of life had not yet faded from his coarse face. A gun was lying on the floor at his feet. Lance took note of powder burns on the breast of his coat, and for a moment he thought it a case of suicide.
But the ridiculous luncheon-basket lying on a table near by gave the lie to that. Somebody else had done Lance's work for him. He dropped his gun in his pocket. Meanwhile a dark wet stain was spreading through the breast of Beardmore's jacket. Lance suddenly bethought himself of his own hazardous situation; he looked around him nervously. Where was the murderer? Had they passed each other silently in the dark house?
How to get out, himself, now? Was the other lying in wait for him in the corridor? As he glanced towards the door of the room he suddenly congealed into ice. The handle was slowly turning. He drew his gun and instinctively dropped on one knee, partly covered by the table. The door opened, slowly, slowly, just an inch or two. Lance waited. It opened no farther. A man's hand appeared around the edge of the door—a hand in a brown glove, the cuff of a gray homespun suit showing above. He was fumbling for the key. Lance suddenly understood his intention and leaped to his feet with a shout.
He ran for the door, but the room was long. The hand pulled the key out and slammed the door. Lance fired a shot through the door. It was no good; the key had turned. LANCE flung himself against the locked door. But since it opened towards him, there was no possibility of forcing it out. Like any living creature suddenly finding itself trapped, a panic seized him. He looked wildly around the room in search of a weapon to smash his way free.
The luxurious library offered nothing. The door was of heavy mahogany. Lance was filled with an unreasoning terror of the dead man who shared his prison. It seemed to him that the head of the sinister figure was nodding slightly, as if Jim Beardmore was laughing. Slinging the basket to one side, he turned the table upside down and, standing on it, wrenched violently at one of the legs. He was afraid to look at the dead man and afraid to turn his back on him.
He succeeded in smashing one of the legs off. Running back to the door, he swung the club with all his might against the panels. The crashing blows echoed strangely through the quiet house. Lance kept glancing in terror over his shoulder at the dead man. His efforts were in vain. He only succeeded in bruising his hands and numbing his arms with the force of his own blows. He slung the club aside and snatched up a heavy brass poker that stood at the fireplace. The poker bent double in his hands. He leaned against the door, panting. All the time better sense was telling him that this would never do.
With a powerful effort of the will he quieted his shaking nerves. He forced himself to go back to the dead man and gaze at him steadily. Beardmore's face was waxen now. He was dead, all right. He would never jeer at anybody again. The dead are harmless. Lance tried to think things through. What strange coil of circumstances had he gotten himself into? What had brought the arrogant millionaire out here with his basket of lunch?
Why had the murderer locked him in with his victim? To try to shift the crime to Lance, perhaps. Not such a bad idea when Lance had been bound on the same errand. A cold sweat broke out all over him as he considered the difficulty of proving his innocence. Perhaps the killer knows all about me, he thought. Then the thought came to him like a sudden flash of light: Jim Beardmore is dead and Freda is free!
Life seemed terribly sweet to Lance then. The only way for him to save himself would be to establish the truth of the matter. With a shiver of repulsion, he started going through the dead man's pockets. They were empty; money, keys, everything had been taken. Lance reached for the pistol on the floor, but drew back his hand in fright, remembering fingerprints. He examined the weapon without touching it; an old-fashioned revolver of large caliber, with silver and mother-of-pearl mountings.
On a silver plate on the butt the owner's name was engraved—James Beardmore. Jim's own gun. Lance wondered how the revolver could have been placed against Jim's breast without his resistance. A bruise on his temple supplied the explanation. He had been knocked down first. The bullet had gone completely through his body. After some search Lance found it imbedded in the floor near the door. He was then able to piece together what had happened.
As he entered the door Jim had been struck by a black jack or some such weapon, and as he lay on his back on the floor he had been shot through the heart. The murderer had then dragged him to the chair. The fact that he had procured Jim's own gun suggested that the killer was some one close to him. Lance went through the luncheon-basket. It contained nothing but lunch—lobster mayonnaise, a salad, dainty sandwiches, a couple of bottles of champagne, and coffee in a thermos bottle. Service for two!
Was it possible that a woman had killed Jim Beardmore? The blackjack is not customarily a woman's weapon. Perhaps there was more than one engaged in it. A sound outside, or a fancied sound, recalled Lance to a sense of his own terrible danger. He instinctively turned out the lights in the room. He went to the windows. The land fell away at the back of the house, and there was a drop of about thirty feet below him. It might have been possible to make a rope out of the heavy curtains and the dustcloths, but that would take time. The side window of the bay faced a window of the adjoining room.
A space of three feet or so separated them. Possible to step across. To think of it was to put it into effect. Lance threw the sash up to its farthest extent, and standing on the sill, supporting himself by the window frame, leaned over and kicked in the next window. Pieces of the glass shivered on the stone paving below. Reaching over with his hand, he found the latch and turned it. To raise the sash in that strained position was not easy, but he finally succeeded in moving it an inch. When he could work the toe of his shoe under it, he got a better leverage.
He crossed over to the other sill and let himself into a dark room. He felt his way to the door, and turned the handle, with his heart in his mouth. The door was not locked! But he was afraid of what might be waiting for him outside. He opened the door and stepped back and to one side, gun in hand, half expecting a rush of bodies, or possibly a shot.
But all was dark and quiet in the corridor. He slipped out. Down at the far end a window showed a pale rectangle of light. He inched along towards the stairs, instinctively keeping his back against the wall, and trying to look both forward and back. His body struck against the key in the door of the library. Removing it, he dropped it in his pocket with the idea of delaying the discovery of the murder as long as possible.
For some moments he hesitated at the mouth of the corridor, dreading to trust himself in the comparative lightness of the great hall. But delay was dangerous. He started down the stairs a step at a time, pressing against the wall. The silence of the place was absolute, and his confidence increased. An instinct told him that the house was empty now, and he went down the last few steps boldly. But worst of all, someone has traveled back in time with them, posing a greater threat than any of the prehistoric animals they are forced to confront. Ryn and Aeden must work frantically to unlock the clues to this murder because the next jolt through time could be their last.
Goldfarb New York native Ann I. Goldfarb spent most of her life in education, first as a classroom teacher and later as a middle school principal and professional staff developer.